The Hawk and the Wolf
by Bleve
Summary: Hawke and Fenris appreciate each other in ways that only they can understand. FemHawke/Fenris.
1. The Hawk and the Wolf

**A/N**: Just a little bit of poetry that I had to get out of my head and onto paper.

Reviews are always welcomed and greatly appreciated!

**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns Fenris and Hawke. I own nothing nearly as cool as them.

* * *

The Hawk and the Wolf

The hawk sees everything.  
She is a predator; a deliverer of death.  
Her broad wings flap through the morning air.  
Her dagger-like talons dig deep into flesh.

The wolf runs relentlessly.  
He is a hunter; a seeker of sustenance.  
His swift feet carry him towards his goal.  
His crushing mandibles find his prey's windpipe.

* * *

Fenris rarely got the opportunity to watch her fight. Usually, they were both engaged in battle against greater numbers. Today was a rarity; they had been granted a day of reprieve by their fearless leader. However, she was apparently ignoring her own orders, and was using her time to practice some new skills. Hawke stood with her back towards him, blades drawn, sparring with Isabela. He noticed little things at first—she tended to lead with her right hand; she leaned slightly forward when she swung. She wore a mask of concentration on her face, and he observed, just a bit of a smirk. Fenris knew that she was stunning, but when she fought, she was incredibly bewitching. Many a man would die happily at her hand. Her armor fit her snugly, and when she twirled to avoid a blade, the skirt flew up enough to catch a glimpse of her upper thigh. For just the briefest of moments, he thought about how glorious it would feel to run his hand along her exposed thigh. He would glide his fingers across her silky skin, along her thigh up to her hip, pulling her into an embrace. The sparring ended, and he quickly pushed the idea away. Those kinds of thoughts about his striking leader would not end well.

* * *

She stepped back, feeling her shoulders crash into a wall. She glanced around, noting that only one opponent remained. In front of her, Fenris ran forward engaging the lone slaver. She came forward to help, and he waved her off. She recognized the look of hatred on his stern face, and realized that he wanted to kill the slaver himself. Instead, she decided to enjoy the view, hungrily eyeing the lean, handsome elf as he attacked. He swung his two-handed blade at the enemy, dealing crushing blows to the out-matched man over and over. She admired his furrowed brow and tensed forearms as he waved the huge sword in graceful arcs. He was savagely beautiful; wild and brutal with his attacks. She noticed that as he moved his arms, the collar of his armor briefly exposed the nape of his neck. She allowed herself the fleeting daydream of sliding her fingertips around his neck while she pulled him into an embrace. She wondered if he had ever let anyone close enough to hold him, surprising herself by how badly she wanted to try. The end of the battle brought her back to her senses, and she quickly dismissed those thoughts. Fantasies about her tantalizing companion could only lead to trouble.


	2. The Long Road Indeed

**A/N**: Originally, The Hawk and the Wolf was going to be a one-shot, just a pretty, little piece of poetry. But, I was inspired by the best quest in the game thus far and its dialogue, and decided to add another story. So, now this will be a series of vignettes, but I have no idea how many. We will just have to see how much more I get inspired.

Reviews are like booze...the more the merrier!

**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns Hawke, Fenris and Dragon Age. If I owned Fenris, I would never leave my house.

* * *

The Long Road Indeed

She stomped her way though the sands of the Wounded Coast, keeping her eyes focused forward while scanning for bandits. She knew that if she looked over her shoulder at him, she would be tempted to turn around and throttle the living daylights out of him. She was not quite sure how she had gotten roped into this mess. Earlier that day, she had gone to the Keep to chat with Aveline, and somehow ended up in the middle of this ridiculousness. Her poor friend was clearly head over heels for her fellow guardsman, but was completely incapable of sharing those feelings with the man himself. It surprised Hawke—Aveline had been married for the Maker's sake, and the captain never seemed to have a problem expressing her opinions. She had reluctantly agreed to help her friend, and that had led to a debacle of huge proportions at the Hanged Man.

The plan involved inviting Donnic to the bar in order to give Aveline a chance to approach him away from the job. Unfortunately, their scheme backfired in two ways. For one, Aveline lost all her nerve and never spoke to the man. But, the second and more personal reason the Hanged Man turned into a disaster was Fenris and his big, stupid mouth. If she had been surprised by Aveline's behavior; she was absolutely floored by Fenris' words. Hawke was letting the woman know just how foolish she was acting, when the elf interrupted, growling at the captain, "You're squandering something you don't understand."

It had taken every bit of her composure to pick her jaw up off the ground, and every ounce of diplomatic skill she possessed to not turn around and slap him. She could hardly believe her ears. He had the audacity to be critical of someone else not being capable of expressing their emotions? Messere Pot meet Messere Kettle. She would have thought Fenris to be more sympathetic to Aveline's plight—considering it was one she knew that the two fools shared. Her disbelief of his statement caused her to keep replaying it over and over in her head, and the more she did so, the angrier she got at his insensitivity. Not only was he being unnecessarily harsh to Aveline, his blatant hypocrisy was reminding her of their miserable situation. He was being a jackass, and she knew all too well just how two-faced his words were.

Somehow, she managed to keep her fury in check and focused herself on helping her friend—she could be angry later. Aveline confessed that she would only feel comfortable talking to Donnic on patrol, but that it would never happen because it was too dangerous. So, that was how she ended up taking her frustration out on bandits along the Wounded Coast, making the patrol quiet so that Aveline could get her chance. Although, by the sound of their conversation, it had not gone well and she knew the patrol was nearing an end. Unfortunately, so was Hawke's patience. "Andraste's ass," she thought to herself, "I have had it with this foolishness." She moved with purpose towards the two guardsmen, and she noticed that Aveline looked mortified as she approached. She did not care; one day her friend would thank her for this. She offered the guard captain one more chance to come clean, and before she could say anything else, Varric made a smartass remark that let the cat out of the bag. Donnic left rather abruptly, and Aveline demanded that we find him and apologize.

The journey back to Kirkwall was rather unpleasant with Aveline looking like she was going to run everybody through with her sword. Everyone was standing in her office when Donnic came in and asked to speak with the captain. It wasn't too long before she heard giggling through the door, and she figured that was enough proof that they had finally achieved their goal. She was disgusted by her feelings afterward—she was still extremely angry, and now that was mixed with happiness for her friend, and envy towards her. Hawke wanted to purge herself of the hostility she felt, and the only way she knew to do that was to fight it out. She was not in the mood for company, however, and decided that she needed some time to herself. She excused herself from the group, informing her friends that she had some business that she needed to attend to. She left the Keep as quickly as she could, and returned to her home. At her request, Bodahn placed her sparring dummy out in the courtyard, and she asked that the dwarf ensure that no one interrupted her. As soon as he left, she approached the dummy, and drew her daggers. "You will have to do…" she sighed to her stuffed companion. "I guess one dummy is as good as the other," she wistfully smirked. She began wailing on the poor thing, channeling all of her rage and frustration towards it.

* * *

He knew that he should not be following her, and he had absolutely no right to be concerned for her—but that did not stop him from doing either. He was hiding in the shadows, watching Hawke spar in her courtyard. He had noticed a change in their leader's disposition during today's events, and he was concerned for her. Earlier, when Aveline had asked for help with Donnic, he had felt extremely uncomfortable. He disliked the idea of meddling in other people's business, especially when it involved matters of the heart. It was also awkward to watch someone else struggle with something so personal. Not to mention, that Aveline reverted back to a bumbling adolescent when it came to romance. Watching the usually confident guard captain turn into a nervous wreck was slightly amusing at first, until it became clear that Aveline's lack of romantic skills meant their further involvement and annoyance. The mess at the Hanged Man just irritated him more, until he finally snapped at Aveline, accusing the woman of wasting her feelings by hiding them.

After that, they were drug to the Wounded Coast to babysit the two guardsmen on patrol, and his frustration grew as he watched the captain stumble over her emotions and words. He knew that a large part of the contempt that he felt was self-loathing, for he understood exactly what Aveline was struggling with. He probably should have kept his mouth shut earlier and not criticized the woman, but he couldn't help it. There were times that he wished someone would push him to come to terms with his emotions and make him realize what he was pissing away by being a coward. He hoped that his prodding would make the captain see her mistakes.

As they had walked along the coast, he had noticed that Hawke was perturbed about something. He incorrectly assumed at first that she was just annoyed with Aveline and the situation in general. But even after things were settled behind closed doors between the two guardsmen, their leader was still upset, and he could see it on her face. His worry kicked in when she suddenly had personal matters that needed to be attended to, and it went into overdrive when she would not allow anyone to accompany her or question her about it. So, he had decided to follow her, and was in serious doubt that all her secrecy was to hide sparring practice. Something else was definitely going on here, and he needed to know what.

He crept closer, enjoying the sight of Hawke in battle. She was beautifully fierce, a stunning blur of daggers and long, lean legs. As he watched her beat the stuffing out of a sparring dummy—with a look of absolute disgust and loathing on her beautiful face—he began to realize that something was seriously wrong. She looked frazzled and agitated, and he could tell that whatever was running through her mind clearly had her annoyed.

He had thought she was just upset, but as he looked at her now, he realized that she was also extremely pissed off and he wondered what could have made her so angry. He crouched there, mesmerized by her deadly dance, until he saw tears stream down her face. He had to know what had her so rattled, and the only way to do that was ask. He knew she was going to be mad at him for invading her privacy, but he could not bear to see her cry.

"Hawke…" he stated, as he slowly came out from his hiding spot. She sheathed her daggers when she heard his voice, and turned slowly to face him.

"Of course, the one person in all of Thedas…" she trailed off. "What do you want, Fenris? Have you developed some new habit of stalking people in their courtyard at night? "

"I've come to find out what is so top-secret about sparring practice," he sighed. Even during tense moments, their mutual enjoyment in teasing one another never waned. That was typical Hawke behavior—brush off something serious with a joke. Most of the time, he indulged her coping mechanism, but not tonight. The Marian Hawke he knew and cared deeply for was not easily shaken, but as he looked at her in the pale moonlight of the courtyard, he realized she was close to breaking. She looked like a woman at the end of her rope, teetering on the edge of sanity. He decided to be gentle with his words; he did not want to cause her any more anguish. He looked straight into her eyes wanting her to understand how seriously he meant his next words, "I was concerned for you when you left so abruptly earlier. Rightfully so, I might add, because I found you clearly aggravated. What has you so upset, Marian?"

They stood there in silence, staring at one another. Anticipation, passion, anger, frustration…all hung in the air between them.

"You want to know what has me upset, Fenris? Is that what you asked?" she inquired.

He nodded, waiting patiently for her to answer.

Fresh tears trickled down her cheek, and before he knew what was happening, she rushed forward crashing into him. She pounded his chest and shoulders with her fists, and he managed to grab her wrists to restrain her. She was struggling like a wrangled nug, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold onto her. "Marian! What in the Maker's name is wrong with you?"

She roared at him, "You are, Fenris. You're squandering something you don't understand."


	3. The Edge

**A/N** - So, here is the third installment of The Hawk and the Wolf. It took quite a while to bake in the ole mental oven, and I had a very difficult time pulling it together. For the longest time, a draft of the third chapter just sat on my computer, waiting for its moment. Then, Lady Gaga published her new song, "The Edge of Glory," and I was immediately inspired by its lyrics. The song and this chapter really captures a moment in Fenris and Hawke's relationship-teetering on the edge, both ready to jump and terrified and intrigued to do so. So, with that said, enjoy!

Reviews are like booze, the more the merrier!

**Disclaimer** - I do not own Bioware or Dragon Age. If I did, I would be a whole lot wealthier. And, all the male characters would be voiced by Gideon Emery, not just Fenris.

* * *

The Edge

The words tumbled out of her mouth, and she saw his face flash in confusion and then realization at the use of his earlier statement against him. Hawke instantly regretted saying anything—for as much as the words condemned him, they exposed her. In her zeal to punish him for his carelessness, she had unwittingly bared her soul. For some time now, something had been building between herself and Fenris. Whatever that something was, she could not really say; it was like there was a force pulling at her, like an itch that she could never quite scratch. She had lost count of how many times she had found herself staring at his lithe frame, or how often she asked him questions that she already knew the answer to just to hear his melodic timbre in response. Hawke had already come to grips with the fact that she was absolutely obsessed with her Tevinter companion, but she was not ready for him to have that knowledge.

She stood there waiting for any kind of response from him. It seemed like hours passed, and still he said or did nothing. He remained immobile, holding her forearms in place, like a golem missing its control rod. "Of course," she thought miserably to herself, "he can babble all day long about the evils of magic but say naught a word about himself." Hawke felt her patience waning, as sadness and frustration set in. His continued silence confirmed her belief that she had said too much. Luckily, it also gave her time to think about her mistake, and what she could do to save face. She decided to backpedal by focusing on how he treated Aveline.

"Did that hit a little too close to home for you, Fenris? You can criticize everyone else's ability to express themselves, but can not handle someone critiquing you? You were very hard on Aveline."

"Brilliant," she thought to herself with contempt, "open your big dumb mouth and almost put your foot in it." Hopefully, he would believe that her reason for being upset with him solely involved his treatment of their mutual friend. She noticed that he was looking at her now, eyeing her warily, like he was watching a snake that was about to strike.

He spoke carefully, "You are right, Hawke. I am hardly in the position to judge; it was foolish of me to do so. I will find Aveline, and apologize to her. "

"Good," she murmured half-heartedly.

"Is there anything else troubling you?"

"No, nothing else." Her voice, full of gravel, betrayed just how false her words were.

She pulled herself out of his grasp, and turned away from him. She strolled as casually as she could over to the dummy, pulled out her daggers, and continued her assault. On the outside she kept her composure, stepping and thrusting in a rhythmic motion, seeming to be concentrating fully on the task at hand. On the inside, she was unsettled, in disbelief that he had seemed to fall for her ruse, and seething in anger at their mutual hypocrisy. She would not let him know the turmoil she was in. She had unknowingly made that mistake once, and he had almost seen too much.

She barely heard his voice then; it was almost inaudible compared to the walloping that she was handing out.

"You seem to be bent on destroying that dummy."

She responded, "That is what they exist for."

"Wouldn't you like a challenge? Why don't you spar with me instead?"

She continued her barrage, not breaking one stride while responding through gritted teeth, "I don't think that is such a good idea."

"Why not? It is much better to practice battle techniques with a live opponent— someone who can give you some feedback."

Clearly, he was not going to heed her warning. She thought it was an extremely bad idea to be sparring with anything alive, especially him, considering her present emotional state. However, if she wanted to keep him in the dark about her feelings, she had to let on like nothing was amiss. Even if, all the while, she was erupting on the inside because she was lying to him right through her teeth when she told him that nothing else was irritating her. She was furious with him and with herself. She was being just as ridiculous as him, and she could not help it.

He came into her view then, standing behind the dummy. He drew his sword, and motioned with his hand, "Come on Hawke."

"I will not be sparring with you, Fenris."

He grinned knowingly, "What's a matter, Hawke? Afraid you will lose?"

"You have no idea what you have asked for," she growled as she lunged at him.

* * *

He quickly managed to bring his sword up in time to parry the thrusts of Hawke's weapons. She was pulling her daggers short of their target, but clearly she was not trying to be gentle. He had the sneaking feeling that he had bitten off more than he could chew—in more ways than one.

He was certain that his initial silence had only contributed to her ire, but he had been unsure of how to respond. Her voice had been heavy with raging emotions, and her echo of his own words had both surprised and stupefied him. On more than one occasion, he had coveted Hawke in ways that were inappropriate at best. He knew that her impassioned accusation that he was being as obtuse as Aveline was spot on, but he was still unsure of how to deal with it.

She was his leader, his confidant, his one true and only friend. He was both fascinated and frightened by the thoughts he had about the Champion. On one hand, she was an incredibly beautiful woman, the perfect mixture of a hard body and soft eyes. Yet, she was the only person in all of Thedas that he could count on. He had realized long ago that it would be very easy to fall for Hawke. Truth be told, he already had strong feelings for the woman. But he was afraid to let those feelings come through, for fear that it could ruin the one thing he valued above all else, her friendship.

Yet his fear of losing that friendship had turned him into a hypocrite, and he knew and understood why she was angry with him. He disapproved of Aveline's withholding of her feelings for Donnic, yet he was doing the same thing to Hawke. She had every right to be furious with him, and he could only hope that she would eventually forgive him. But just as soon as he thought he understood why she was angry, she confounded him again by expressing only her displeasure about how he had treated Aveline. She breathed not a word about their similar situation, and how he was being two-faced. Even when he pressed her, she tried to tell him that his mistreatment of their friend was the only thing that bothered her.

Except, when he looked into her eyes, he could see that they were still unsettled. She was a convincing actress, and she probably could have fooled everyone else except him. He had looked into the deep blue depths of her irises so often that he knew something was amiss. If she would not volunteer the information, he would just have to coax it out of her. The easiest way to do that, knowing Hawke, was to antagonize her. So that's exactly what he did, by offering to spar with her, and, when she refused, challenging her ability to best him.

Now, that decision seemed short-sighted. He was sure she would eventually crack, but he was also sure he would get a beating in the meantime. He had managed to keep up with her for the most part, but she seemed to have an unlimited supply of emotion-driven energy. She was blindingly quick and eventually managed to flank him. She swept his feet out from under him, and he landed prone with a thud. He looked at her face, and the expression she wore was mostly amusement mixed with a tinge of contempt.

"So much for that challenge you offered," she mocked as he lay sprawled below her.

She looked so smug standing there, that he felt a great desire to knock her down a peg. He reached out, grabbing her ankle and pulling her off balance. She fell backwards, landing parallel to him. He used the surprise of his attack to roll on top of her, and pinned her arms at her sides.

"I will admit, that was an uncharacteristic and impressive move," she huffed breathlessly.

"Like it? I have learned a few things by watching you," he panted.

"You've been watching me?" Her voice was heavy with implication.

"I can admit to admiring your form while fighting. You appear to be the one who cannot admit to anything when it comes to me," he weaved the words with a mixture of serious accusation and gentle teasing.

Her eyes narrowed, "Fine. I can admit that I knew I was going to hand your ass to you."

He sighed and smirked, "You can be so utterly infuriating, Hawke."

"I've learned from the best, Fenris."

He lowered his face to hers, and was amused when she looked startled. He whispered breathlessly, "Good. Since you are such an eager pupil, I have one more lesson to teach you that you clearly need to learn—how to surrender."

He crashed his lips into her roughly, wrapping his arms around her to pull her to him. Her mouth responded eagerly, and her fingers dug into his shoulders. She slid her tongue along his lips, requesting entrance. He gladly obliged, and shifted his weight so that they could be comfortable in their embrace. They laid there, intertwined in one another, enjoying each other and finally content after many months of want and need. He broke their kiss to murmur, "I could get used to this kind of sparring."

"So could I," she smiled.


End file.
